


Pony

by Stitch_Kiss



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Ricky Bowen (HSM: The Series), First Kiss, Fluff, Late night talks, M/M, Soft Boys, Truth or Dare, a reappearance of a billion sorrys, hsmtmts’s most iconic song don’t @ me, lap dance, way too many mentions of ej calling ricky pretty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23689678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stitch_Kiss/pseuds/Stitch_Kiss
Summary: “Yes, Ricky. We know. You’ve told this story maybe a million times since then, and Christmas was two weeks ago,” Nini sighed. “Not to mention all the times before that when they were dancing around each other and you complained about it.”“Okay, you know what—“ They did not know what, because Gina happily interrupted Ricky’s useless rant about his dad and his drama teacher, and not for the first time.“Let’s play Truth or Dare!”ORThe one Friday night where our drama dorks play Truth or Dare and things... happen.
Relationships: Big Red/Ashlyn Caswell, Ricky Bowen & Carlos Rodriguez, Ricky Bowen & E.J. Caswell, Ricky Bowen & Gina Porter, Ricky Bowen/E.J. Caswell, Seb Matthew-Smith/Carlos Rodriguez, main is ricky/ej tho
Comments: 10
Kudos: 162





	Pony

**Author's Note:**

> My first HSMTMTS fic! Enjoy your read and don’t forget to leave kudos and comments:)

Theater kid meet ups were a usual thing after the musical, obviously. They weren’t going to stop hanging out just because there wasn’t a production to keep them busy and together, and really, they had made some great friendships that fall. Sure, it was tense at first, but the teens valued friendship far more than petty rivalries and less than ideal relationship drama.

Nini, Ricky, and EJ worked out…whatever _that_ was immediately after the play, and the dynamic and energy ran smoother between everyone even remotely involved.

EJ was surprised to learn neither Nini or Ricky had feelings for each other anymore and would rather go back to being best friends, because that was how their relationship worked better and it was just way less fucking awkward for the both of them.

EJ managed to restore any trust Nini had in him, and their talk during the whole Miss Jenn fiasco helped, along with everything he did during the musical. At this point, EJ should’ve tried to get Nini back, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to, really. He never noticed when his feelings for her faded, only that they were gone and likely never coming back. Honestly, he’d always known their relationship was failing before it even started. Even though Nini insisted he wasn’t a rebound, what else was he supposed to be? Deep down, EJ had resented Nini for it during the majority of their relationship. But that healed when he wasn’t looking, and now his sights were set on new, stormy horizons.

EJ wasn’t exactly sure what he and Ricky were. Yeah, they made up in a disgusting bro-like way that would leave frat guys with dramaticized tear tracks, but EJ sensed some tension yet. He knew why things were bumpy on his end, but Ricky really didn’t have a reason to still not like EJ, right? They talked when they were with the group, but EJ didn’t know Ricky’s favorite song. Sometimes they sent memes back and forth or helped each other with homework, but neither Ricky or EJ knew what the other wanted to do after high school.

What EJ did know is that he likes Ricky’s hair, and Ricky’s smile, and how Ricky’s lips looked when he smiled. Ricky was pretty, and EJ had seen him shirtless, so he knew Ricky was fucking packed. And Ricky knew EJ was packed too, obviously. He kinda liked that Ricky saw him shirtless that one time, even though he was a bloody mess and Ricky most definitely half-assed some of that apology, but it thrilled EJ nonetheless. He liked it, and he liked Ricky to an extent, but always came up helplessly blank when he tried to specifically label their budding connection.

So… what were they?

Ashlyn offered absolutely no help concerning EJ’s internal crisis, though he never actually confided in her or actually sought her insight; she was too wrapped up in her own romantic bliss with Big Red. (Honestly, EJ assumed for the longest fucking time Ashlyn was a lesbian, but, okay.) They still made time for each other, but his cousin’s topic of discussion shifted away from her newest musical obsession to her boyfriend. Mostly. EJ loved Ashlyn dearly, but if he had to spend another Friday night listening to her and Gina blather on about Big Red’s dopey smile, he was going to find a lake and drive himself into it.

As if the universe heard his plea, it promptly delivered, because this Friday, instead of the usual J-14 face mask night, they were going to a lowkey get together at Carlos’s to celebrate the end of midterms. EJ’s finals had callously kicked his chafed ass, and now he could unwind, so bless Carlos’s soiree-addicted heart.

It was nice, EJ thought, relaxing in a nice environment with such positive energy, surrounded by people who understood him better than he understood himself. If you looked in the dictionary for the word “vibing,” you would see a picture of these people in this moment, content with nothing but each other.

Right now, he was intensely discussing the Spring Musical with Nini, Ashlyn, and Seb. Miss Jenn still hadn’t revealed what the musical would be, much to everyone’s frustration. His eyes flitted to the stairs when Big Red, Carlos, Gina, and Ricky (EJ hated his stupid heart for beating annoyingly fast at just the thought of the junior, and then he hated his stupid head for confusing his heart and making all these annoying feelings EJ was suddenly very sweaty with) stomped downstairs with armfuls of provisions.

“She’s keeping a suspiciously tight lip about this,” Carlos said. He dumped the food on the coffee table in the middle of their little circle and the rest copied him. “All I know is that the Engineering, Art, AND Robotics Club were paid to get a head start on the sets. They’re not even allowed to tell anyone what they’re making.”

“Wait, Robotics? Red, Ash, do you know anything?” Ricky asked. He popped the lid open to a dip and ripped open a bag of chips and proceeded to devour both.

“Okay, ew,” Ash made a face at Ricky, and he stopped his chewing to show her a mix of mushed up chips and white dip in his mouth, and she smacked him. “And, no. Mazzara basically shunned us; we’re not allowed into meetings anymore. He said we’ll be let back in when Miss Jenn decides the suspense is built up enough so more students are tempted to sign up or something.”

Seb said, “It’s kinda weird they’re friends now. I think Mazzara might _like_ her, y’know.”

Ricky choked and sputtered on the chips. Carlos and EJ patted his back, and Ricky rode out the attack on his lungs for a good minute. After a thorough drink of water he looked around at the basement’s occupants.

“He does know she’s seeing my dad, right? I mean, they’ve been official since Christmas!” They all rolled their eyes and made similar inarticulate sounds of exasperation.

“Yes, Ricky. We know. You’ve told this story maybe a million times since then, and Christmas was two weeks ago,” Nini sighed. “Not to mention all the times before that when they were dancing around each other and you complained about it.”

“Okay, you know what—“ They did not know what, because Gina happily interrupted Ricky’s useless rant about his dad and his drama teacher, and not for the first time.

“Let’s play Truth or Dare!”

Joint agreements rose in the room in the form of garbled cheers and saucy “ooh’s.” Ricky didn’t mind being cut off and embraced the distraction, wondering greatly what the rest of the night had in store for them.

“Do we get any chickens?” asked Kourtney, always the intrepid.

“Only one,” supplied Gina, “but use it wisely! This was my idea, so I’ll ask first. Big Red! Truth or dare?” She waggled her eyebrows at him.

“Truth!” EJ knew the question before it was even asked. He was sure everyone did.

“When did you realize you like Ashlyn?”

Big Red blushed, and EJ might’ve felt bad for the kid if he wasn’t dating his baby cousin. EJ has a protective streak, sue him.

“I don’t remember the exact day, but she just walked into rehearsals one day and the sun was shining on her and she _smiled_ at me. I know it’s not really special, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her after that.”

Oh, EJ was gonna punch this kid, and he was gonna punch him hard. He was a smooth fucker. Especially when everyone showered him in praises and phrases like: “You’re the sweetest bean ever!” EJ nearly melted himself as Big Red lived up to his name when Ashlyn slyly pressed a kiss to his cheek. Ha!

The hype died down and it was Big Red’s turn. “Uh, EJ! Truth or dare!”

He was a badass senior, juggling the life of an honor student, athletic, drama geek. So of course: “Dare.”

Big Red was all smiles when he said, “I dare you to play the ‘really weird song’ you wrote Nini one time!”

EJ paled in seconds. Ashlyn, the only other person who ever heard his song, laughed. He wrestled with his options. He could bitch out now and waste a perfectly good chicken, or play a catchy but definitely embarrassing song that radiates major crackhead energy. He was lost in his mind, but he still heard Nini mutter an “Oh my God,” and Ricky and Carlos chant, “play it, play it, play it!”

Finally, he groaned and pulled out his phone.

EJ did chicken out in a way; he refused to look anyone in the eye as his song played, and closed his eyes halfway through in a somewhat useful effort to mask this cold, cold Hell.

There was nothing but silence as his song (his song!) came to a rackingly slow end.

“EJ,” Kourtney said softly, “you don’t have to be ashamed.”

He snapped his eyes up. His open mouth produced no words, and he sighed. “I’m not ashamed of the song, just that I don’t know how to express how I feel.”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because now _he_ was the one they all doted on and swarmed for hugs. Maybe it did lift a tiny weight off his pressured chest, and maybe he felt a rush of warmth as he was wrapped in a pile of limbs and murmurs of assurance.

“It’s catchy,” Ricky assured him. EJ fought a smile.

“And has cadence,” supplied Seb.

EJ shook his head. “Okay, okay. We’re done with this. Kourtney. Truth or dare?”

“I’ll shake it up, so dare!”

“I dare you to audition for the Spring Musical.”

Anyone that knew Kourtney knew she was in a constant battle to let herself be heard. Everyone’s tried to get her to audition for something, but she’s been frustratingly indecisive about the musical especially. Miss Jenn wanted her bad, and they all knew Kourtney would land a lead. She wouldn’t even have to audition before Miss Jenn cast her. Kourtney was stuck.

“I don’t know. I don’t know! Is the stage really where I belong?” Kourtney fully intended that to be rhetorical, so it was a total game changer when everyone in the basement yelled “YES” at her immediately.

“Kourt,” Nini said, “You’ll love it, and we’ll all be there every step of the way with you.”

A surge of agreement sounded from the group and it seemed Kourtney was convinced, because she split into a grin and said, “Okay!”

“Ricky, truth or dare?” She asked.

“Let’s go with truth!”

“What’s the last thing you googled?” Ricky paused, pulled out his phone, froze, and shook his head rapidly.

“Chicken. Chicken. _Fucking chicken._ ”

They burst out laughing like they were middle schoolers. “Oh God is it really that bad?”

Ricky flushed a deep red and blurt, “It’s not like _that!_ I just— it’s personal, okay?” He pouted and adopted what they called the “kicked puppy” look. They snickered at him again and he tried to start the game back up, insisting that he knows he wasted a chicken and could we just get on with the game already? He missed the whispered exchange between Gina and Carlos a few feet away from him.

The game did eventually go on after they tired of joking at Ricky’s expense, opting to wait until he inevitably did something dumb and disastrous so they could make fun of him for that instead.

They went, turn after turn, doing ridiculous and embarrassing tasks and admitting to faults and deep, hushed up secrets. Gina nearly passed out after Nini dared her to do a handstand for five minutes, and Seb cried after admitting he only loved some of his sheep and guilt was killing him. Ricky dared Carlos to go into his parents room and scream really loudly until they yelled at him (Carlos had gotten an earful after that), and Ashlyn revealed that Big Red wasn’t her first boyfriend (“What? What the fuck? _How could you not tell me?_ ” EJ said, betrayed.)

Gina just got done seeing how many marshmallows she could stuff into her mouth (17), and her and Carlos shared a meaningful look. They nodded.

“Ricky, truth or dare?”

“Dare, I guess.” And he was thoroughly confused when Gina suddenly screamed “YES!” and Carlos quite literally jumped out of his seat and hopped around the basement screeching. Carlos rounded back to Gina to grab her hands, and they continued to burst everyone’s eardrums while bouncing together.

“Fuck. What’s my dare?” Ricky practically had to shout.

They descended on him like prowling tigers. Carlos genuinely looked like he was about to explode, so was everyone else, but more out of anticipation.

“Ricky,” Gina said. “I dare you to give EJ a lap dance.”

There was more screaming—from everyone this time—and EJ couldn’t bring himself to even move. Ricky’s jaw dropped open and he sputtered.

“You have to do it!” Carlos interrupted. “You don’t have a chicken!”

“We’re choosing the song. And we’re gonna get you ready beforehand,” Gina beamed.

“Fuck. _Fine_. Any more requests?” Ricky asked dryly.

Carlos and Gina looked at each other, engaged in a silent conversation. They seemed to have come to a consensus if the matching smugness on their faces were anything to go by.

“You have to do it shirtless.”

Ricky made multiple sounds of discontent as they dragged him into the nearest bathroom. Carlos emerged a second later and whispered excitedly into Seb’s ear. He slipped him his phone and he disappeared again.

Seb did a confusing pairing thing with Carlos’s phone and the basement sound system, then he asked for help moving the coffee table. When it was pushed against the nearest wall, he dragged a chair from the downstairs dining table (why do people have those?) to the center of the room. He turned to EJ expectantly. He sighed deeply and sat.

“Isn’t this exciting, EJ?” Nini teased him from her spot to his left.

“Shut up.”

They all began to chatter, the anticipation was on everyone’s nerves. EJ joined in conversation only a few times. He had to get his heart under control. Focus. Focus. Focus.

“ _You are not putting oil on my chest!_ ” They heard Ricky distinctly yelp from the bathroom, followed by incoherent, but audible, arguing from Carlos and Gina. It seemed everyone but EJ found this extremely funny. He didn’t think anything was funny right now, actually.

He peered over at his friends. Nini, Kourtney, and Ash were all leaned up against each other, cuddled on one of the couches and attempting to throw gummy bears into each other’s mouths. Big Red and Seb were a little bit away from the girls on comfy chairs talking adamantly about the newest Nintendo game they were planning to get on the Switch. EJ was in-and-out of both conversations, but pretended to do something on his phone to settle his nerves.

The bathroom door swung open and Carlos and Gina filed out of it with identical Cheshire grins. And when Ricky exits the bathroom, he could hardly hear the loud whooping and whistling of his friends over his own thudding heartbeat. He swallows.

Ricky stands only a few feet in front of him, shirtless and defined and smooth. EJ swears there’s a line of glitter patterned on his chest and—is that _eyeliner?_ His jeans were unbuttoned but zipped up and, really, it was risky for them to be that _low_ on his waist, and there were at least two inches of black Calvin Klein boxer briefs peeking up to flirt with EJ’s decreasing sense of propriety.

Ricky’s hair was a wreck. Like, he-just-had-an-insanely-hot-hookup-and-didn’t-bother-to-fix-himself kind of wreck. Ricky ran a hand through his hair, effectively worsening what was already horrible, and EJ swallowed again. Carlos and Gina took their seats for the show, and Seb started the music.

Three things happened in concession right then, though the third was known to EJ and EJ only.

1: Pony by Ginuwine blasted through the ridiculous sound system Carlos decked his basement out with, which, awesome.

2: Every person in said basement collectively lost their entire shit when they realized what iconic stripper song EJ would be receiving his lap dance to. 

And 3: EJ was struck by how goddamn _beautiful_ this boy standing in front of him really was.

But Ricky wasn’t just standing anymore. He was dancing.

He didn’t touch EJ at first, and the older boy wasn’t sure how to feel about not being touched. Ricky built him up well enough, and their friends egged him on as he ran his hands all over his body. He ran his palm down his stomach, and everyone held their breaths as he got closer to his zipper and farther, but Ricky was a fucking tease and curved his hand at the last second and ran it down his thigh instead. Gina booed him.

His routine included some Hip Hop, which no one knew Ricky was capable of, and he seriously had the audacity to mock everyone by using signature Fuck Boy moves, like looking EJ right in the eyes while biting his lip and smirking an ungodly amount, and he. Kept. Popping. His. Hips to draw attention. EJ wanted to throttle him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Ricky was getting a kick out of this whole thing.

Then, Ricky walked right up to EJ, turned around, and did a handstand. He would’ve gone deaf from the screams and laughter that followed, but he could only focus on the perky ass shaking in front of his face. Ricky spread his legs and—fuck— _gyrated his hips_ to the music. Then Ricky slowly let his legs fall backwards toward EJ until he straddled him and flung himself upwards, and they were suddenly and impossibly face-to-face just as the chorus hit. Ricky smiled for a small second, then his hips were moving.

EJ couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t fucking breathe. How could he even think about something as inconsequential as air when Ricky fucking Bowen was practically dry humping him. EJ’s head was swimming, and he might’ve cried when Ricky stopped circling his hips to instead get up, spread EJ’s legs to stand in between them, throw one leg over the back of the chair, and began to bop his hips up and down like a wave of burning fire. EJ was definitely starting to feel it. Distantly, he heard someone scream, “Oh my God!” There was nothing remotely holy about Ricky dancing in a rather sexy succession dangerously close to EJ’s head if he had anything to say about it.

Abruptly, Ricky spun around and dropped off the chair and straddled him backwards this time. He leaned down and smacked his hands to the floor and started to bob himself down on EJ’s lap like he was riding him backwards. The music and his friends' feral shrieking were equally as loud. In the corner of his eye, he saw them jumping and hitting each other as they watched the scene in front of them unfold.

He had no idea how he looked right now, how both of them looked, but he hoped no one would pick up on the obvious boner he was desperately trying to stifle. It was a little hard with a hot boy literally on top of him and the added fucking stimulation, but EJ had suffered situations more embarrassing before.

Was it, like, ethically right to even get a hard on right now? Did normal people get turned on from lap dances? EJ has a huge thing about consent, and he felt a little bit like he was taking advantage of Ricky. Ricky literally could not get out of this dare, and EJ hated how much he was enjoying this whole thing despite that. He hoped Ricky couldn’t feel his little buddy and prayed that if he did, he wouldn’t think EJ used him or made him feel too uncomfortable. He swore off strip clubs in the future.

Ricky sat up again, ground down on him for a good chunk of time, and then turned himself around so he was facing EJ properly again. He twisted his hips a little bit and EJ desperately wanted to touch him.

Then, Ricky winked at him and leaned back until one of his hands touched the floor to support his weight, and his hips rose significantly closer to EJ’s head. EJ was too busy watching Ricky’s other hand stroke his chest and abs to notice his opposing leg had gone behind his head until he felt a foot pull his neck (and by extension his whole body) down toward Ricky‘s raised hips. A chorus of “WOO’s” went around the room. His eyes darted toward the center for a second and his stomach swooped. He missed Ricky smirk again before pushing both of them back up. EJ hit the back of the chair and Ricky looked down at him.

The song finally came to a close, and Ricky slumped against EJ’s shoulder, and his forehead pressed against the side of EJ’s neck. His labored breaths floated over EJ’s skin, and the older boy squeezed his hands to stop his own trembling. Ricky didn’t move.

“I have, like, a newfound respect for strippers. That was hard. And exhausting.”

EJ glanced up at his suspiciously quiet friends, and they shared similar expressions with mixtures of amazement, confusion, and stun. Mostly, they looked like they were fighting off laughs and—

“Gina, were you filming this?” Ej asked incredulously.

Ricky instantly shot up, and in a haste to confirm his worst fucking fear, he knocked heads with EJ, and they both crumpled down where they were in complete agony.

“Ricky!”

He couldn’t rebuttal EJ’s cry of pain because he was rolling around Carlos’s basement floor in an attempt to deal with his own. Gina, the damn sadist she was, cackled terribly at them, and Ricky saw her phone clearly still filming the pony and his clumsy rider. He groaned again, eliciting giggles and taunts from his friends.

“Hey Gina,” Ricky said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Go fuck yourself.” 

***

There was literally nothing anyone could say or do to top Ricky’s Magic Mike show, so they stopped playing after that and popped in The Greatest Showman (“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ricky asked. “Is this ‘Bully Ricky Night?’ Did I miss that?”) and settled for the night.

They all crashed around the wild hour of eleven o’clock, but EJ always had trouble sleeping anywhere that wasn’t his bed, so in the middle of the night, when he couldn’t stand the white noise and soft breathing any longer, he carefully got off the couch he was sharing with Ricky and Big Red and started upstairs.

He didn’t have a direction or plan in mind and ended up in the Rodriguez’s kitchen. He snagged a bottle of water and hopped on the island. He stuck his foot out and a beam of moonlight flashed over his shin. He swung his leg out a few more times and thought about nothing in particular. He took a swing of water.

“EJ?” asked Nothing In Particular.

He looked over at the basement door where Ricky stood, bleary and mused. He walked over and leaned against the counter across from EJ.

“I woke up and you were gone.” His voice was still scratchy with sleep, and the senior’s throat clenched. He could only nod.

They spent some time suffering in silence then because both of them knew what conversation had to be next, and they also both knew EJ had to be the one to bring it up. Only one of them knew which was the coward.

EJ drank his water. Ricky stared at him.

The thing about awkward conversations was that it wasn’t nearly as awkward as it should’ve been when both parties knew it was awkward. When only one did, things went by smoother, more unnoticed. What made their conversation less than ideal was that _feelings_ were involved, and nothing—not even anything sexual—topped that. Well, when their conversation had to include a sexual fucking lap dance, their conversion will take the damn cake and topple it to the floor.

“Was your search history really that bad?”

Ricky sighed and rested his head against the cabinets behind him. EJ noticed, with a flutter of his stomach, that his dark eyelashes were long enough to brush the tops of his cheekbones. It was pretty.

“It’s personal. Like, I’m still figuring shit out and adjusting to it, so this would’ve brought up a whole conversation I’m not ready for.” EJ wasn’t sure why he was shaking. Ricky’s Adam’s Apple bobbed up and down, and EJ waited.

“I know no one will care, y’know? But this is all so new. God. I don’t… I don’t know, EJ.” The two boys looked at each other, and nothing was said or done for a long moment as they held the others gaze.

Eventually Ricky pulled out his phone and shoved it at EJ. He saw the Google logo and pressed the phone quickly to his chest.

“What… Why me? If it’s as personal as you say it is, why not Big Red or Nini? Why me, Ricky?”

Ricky shook his head and touched his phone. His fingers rested on top of EJ’s, and he let out a breath. Ricky tapped the phone.

“You’re different, EJ.” He could feel the warmth Ricky radiated, that’s how close they were, and it latched onto EJ. That was enough for him, and he let Ricky coax his phone free.

“ _How do I know if I’m bisexual_ ,” EJ reads aloud. “Usually when I google things, I don’t write it in complete sentences.”

Ricky punched his shoulder; EJ did his best not to yell so loud as to not wake anybody up, and it ended up sounding like a much smaller garbled moan of pain than it really was. Ricky had an incredibly bony hand and a fast arm, and he used both fully to his advantage.

“You asshole,” Ricky hisses with no real malice. “I bare my heart to you and you make jokes?” Ah, but he always has time for drama.

EJ slid off the counter and looked down at the fiery junior. “You literally look like a puppy right now. Cute,” he mused. EJ exercised his late night confidence, and it seemed to work as Ricky crossed his arms and pouted more.

“Well, was I ‘cute’ when I gave you a stiff one earlier?” A response to this outlandish remark was impossible, so EJ suffered in his spot like a goddamn man. Ricky looked pretty satisfied with himself, then realized the situation he landed them both in and stared dumbly at EJ.

“I didn’t—I didn’t care. I mean. I was kinda... trying to?” he offered.

EJ blinked. “You.. Ricky. I was in _pain_. I didn’t even want to touch you because I thought it would make you uncomfortable! And now you’re telling me you purposely gave me a—Oh my God.”

“You could’ve touched me,” Ricky said. They looked at each other like they had been all night, and then they were kissing.

All the tension in EJ immediately vanished from his body, as if Ricky’s touch was its reliever. Ricky clung to him, reminding the other boy that he wasn’t the only one with feelings. His hands were wrapped around Ricky's body, and he felt arms around his neck and a hand grazing his hair. He smiled.

Their lips attacked each other passionately, and EJ tried not to melt as he felt Ricky’s warm lips glide against his own. Their mouths pulled and tugged on each other, and EJ sucked on Ricky’s bottom lip. That excited a little whine out of the younger boy, and EJ kissed him harder.

Just as EJ was about to test his limits and press further with his tongue, Ricky pulled back and giggled breathlessly.

“Let's take it slow, okay?” He lightly traced the outline of EJ’s lips with the tip of his index finger, then his eyes flickered back up to the athlete. EJ nodded and pressed their foreheads together.

“I really like you,” he said.

“Good,” Ricky bumped their noses together, “because I really like you too.”

“This would’ve been awkward otherwise, I’m sure.”

They didn’t stay in the kitchen much longer after that because, despite everything, it was very late and they were both exhausted. But there were stolen kisses and hushed nothings whispered between the two boys wrapped around one another before they went back.

On the couch downstairs, they shared a blanket and a small cushion, because in their absence Big Red managed to steal Ricky’s blanket and most of his previous sleeping space. Together they settled in for the rest of the night and both welcomed a dreamless sleep and the promise of tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> How was it? I have more fics in the works, so be on the look out! Thank you for reading and please leave kudos and comments, but this is a safe space so keep it nice and sweet! Also if you want to imagine Ricky’s lap dance better, the literal last dance from Magic Mike XXL was an inspiration for some of it, so you can youtube that!


End file.
